


Untitled-Pending

by Siberian



Series: Steter Week 2020 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Breeding, Dirty Talk, Dubcon (Could be taken this way), Knotting, M/M, Male Lactation (mentioned), Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg (Mentioned with Focus), Rough Sex (sort of), Voyeurism, When in Doubt-Contact Author for Full List of Warnings, dominating behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27838030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siberian/pseuds/Siberian
Summary: It's rare. That's why he doesn't expect it. Never let it be said though, that he doesn't know how to seize an opportunity when one comes his way.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Vernon Boyd/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Steter Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037622
Comments: 8
Kudos: 215
Collections: Steter Week 2020





	Untitled-Pending

**Author's Note:**

> Written for “Steter Week - Day 2: Hourglass (Visual Theme)” on Tumblr
> 
> This contains no spoilers. Although there is no timeframe mentioned, this is essentially before 3B based on who's in the pack. I'm basically ignoring canon to include previous characters and to bump some of the teens up to a legal age. So yeah, keep that in mind. There are other pairings listed but the focus is on Peter with Stiles. By way of warnings we have, Breeding, Heat, Mpreg (Mentioned with Focus), Knotting, Rough Sex (kind of), Dominating Behavior, Dirty Talk, Male Lactation (Mentioned). This may also been seen as Dubcon but it wasn't written with that intent.
> 
> Come join me on [Tumblr](https://siberianthewriter.tumblr.com)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Where he was sitting gave him the perfect view. He claimed the spot early on in the evening and had made it a point not to move. The charged atmosphere in the loft had calmed once again. All that could be heard in the wide open space was heavy breathing. Of all of them, the worst offenders were the two men in the center of the living room. The wide open space of the room now had a pallet on the floor. It had been outfitted with soft sheets, four pillows and a comforter. On the floor, all along the edges of the pallet were clothes. They were waded up into a ball, pressed against one another only to form a complete square. As comfortable as the bed had looked at the beginning, now it was in complete disarray.  
  
The comforter was bunched up in places, one of its corners overtaking a corner of the floor. On the bed itself the pillows were akimbo, some of them lying sideways and others crumpled into odd lumpy shapes. In the few places where the Navy blue sheets could be seen, they were crinkled. There were waves in the material that were pronounced. This included the fitted sheet despite its more secure state. In the center of the bed, both still breathing deeply were Boyd and Stiles. The former was sitting on his knees whereas the latter was on his back. They were still joined together intimately as they both caught their breath. A hand underneath Stiles’ kneecap held it up as Boyd slowly pulled out.  
  
At the movement, Stiles whimpered softly. It was understandable. The cock inside of him was still hard and Boyd wasn’t exactly small. As if that wasn’t enough, Stiles’ hole was well used at this point. As though in seeming confirmation, the muscles stretched wide as the head popped out. It had a shudder going through Stiles’ lower body. About a second later, a large gush of come followed Boyd’s exit. The mess mingled with the come already painting Stiles’ pale skin. After gently replacing Stiles’ leg, Boyd left the bed on shaky legs. “Who’s next?” There was a frown on Scott’s face as he asked the question. It made this all the sweeter in his book. With a casual gesture, he pointed to his own chest. “Me.”  
  
That had Scott looking to Isaac seated about a cushion away to his right. “Isaac?” He didn’t have to look in that direction to see the look of mild panic on the young werewolf’s face. The look had been there pretty much all night. Instead of allowing Isaac to answer, he climbed to his feet to saunter toward the pallet. He came to a stop directly on the opposite side of the bedding. It put him directly across from Scott and Derek with Stiles lying prone between their standing forms. When he spoke, he did so in a calm deliberate voice. “I’m next. I want my turn.” The words had Scott looking angry, his foot trying to move forward in a step he didn’t have room to take. “I’m the Alpha. I get final say in who gets to go next.”  
  
He smirked at hearing the undertone of impotence in Scott’s voice. There really was only so much he could do. “Did you change your mind, Scott? Do you want a go at him?” The mere thought had Scott grimacing in distaste. If circumstances had been different, he would have been the first one between Stiles’ legs. “No, I don’t.” There was a pause then as though Scott only now realized what he’d said. “And don’t talk about him like that!” With an air of desperation, Scott looked behind him toward his remaining pack mate. “Isaac?” It was at this point he turned around as well. The look of panic was still there but it was almost buried by guilt. In fact it was so bad, that Isaac wasn’t even able to meet Scott’s gaze.  
  
His head was tipped down and he was firmly looking at the hands in his lap. “Let Peter go next. I don’t…I mean Stiles wouldn’t want…and I don’t…” The words tapered off which had him looking back at Scott smugly. “As I said, it’s my turn next.” There was a look on Scott’s face that said he wanted to refuse. Apparently his nephew noticed it too because he spoke up in a mild tone. “You can’t say no, Scott. It won’t stop until every male pack member has had a chance.” He waited it out, knowing that Scott would see reason. Finally the Alpha released a disgusted sigh. “Fine. Take your turn.” There was a pause only for Scott to continue in a growl. “If you hurt him, I’ll make you pay.”  
  
He snorted in amusement at the threat. “It’s hard to take that seriously when you’re so morally superior.” Instead of rising to the bait, Scott continued with an expression hard as granite. “There are worse things than death.” He gave an easy nod. “I’ve found that to be true.” Apparently his nonchalance warranted more threats. “I could always just call his father.” The smile that came to his face was proud. “You’re learning, Scott. Now that is a threat. I have no doubt that the good Sheriff would put a bullet in my brain without remorse.” He really didn’t doubt it either. When it came to his son, the Sheriff would burn down anything in his path. It was a trait he admired, one that was shared by Stiles concerning his Dad. The two of them were really quite similar.  
  
In the past it had been a bit of a disadvantage. Trying to carry out nefarious plans wasn’t easy with someone so clever around. Yet he could only find admiration in it even when it frustrated him to no end. The Sheriff had raised his son well. One of these days, he may just tell him that. “As long as you understand.” He nodded easily at the comment from Scott. The expression he adopted was congenial. “Message received.” With the pre-requisite ‘shovel talk’ out of the way, he turned his attention fully to Stiles. He wasn’t surprised to already find Stiles watching him intently. It was his turn after all. Moving slowly, he leaned down next to the bed. The dark eyes followed his movement without hesitation.  
  
When he tipped forward, Derek spoke up in warning. “Don’t forget Peter, your time starts as soon as you touch him.” The look he sent Derek was sardonic. Like he would forget something like that. It wasn't as though it was him who had enlightened the pack as to what was happening. Oh wait, that's right, it was. His expression earned him a frown. “I thought it might be a good idea to remind you, now that you’re close.” He tipped his head down with a nod of concession. That made sense. Even now the scent of pack was filling his nostrils. It was making it a little hard to think. “Thank you for the reminder nephew.” Although his words were now sincere, Derek snorted slightly as though he was still being sarcastic. He let it go. Now wasn’t the time to worry about it.  
  
Reminded of the restrictions he had brought his gaze to the nearby hourglass. Currently it was sitting dormant. When it had been used the first time, subsequently when Derek had broken Stiles in, he’d timed how long the sand would fall. It had a duration of forty-five minutes. The time seemed appropriate, he’d have more than a half an hour but less than a full hour to make his claim. This wasn’t a task for the weak. He looked forward to the challenge. Looking back down at Stiles, he let his gaze slide slowly over his body. There was a red flush on his youthful face that had spread down to his neck.  
  
His slightly longish hair was dark, plastered to his forehead damply. The slim muscles shook lightly with building tension and there was a layer of semi-dried sweat on his skin. On different places on his body were white patches. They were more heavily concentrated on his stomach, thighs, groin and on his backside. Despite that, there were little smears all over his skin. The dark hair at his groin was damp with sweat. He could smell the musk of his scent even inches away. It took every ounce of his willpower not to simply bury his face there for days. Instead he leaned a little closer to fully scent the nest. Immediately the scent of pack filled his nostrils, giving him a sense of comfort while making his blood race.  
  
The clothes mingled everyone’s scent together cloyingly. This combined with the heavier scent of Stiles’ musk, his sweat, the lingering arousal of his pack and their release had his fangs itching to drop. He took his time taking it all in, knowing the challenge to his claim would only increase his determination. The whole time Stiles looked at him longingly. He also moved restlessly against the bedding, his hand skimming over his growing erection unthinkingly. All of it was a beautiful sight. When a few weeks ago, he’d heard that Stiles had fallen ill, he’d never expected this outcome. It was rare for a pack to fall into Recovery. The last time he could remember it happening he’d been a boy.  
  
There had been a major fight against a rouge pack. They’d lost a lot of pack members. He could still remember sneaking into his father’s office and seeing the hourglass sitting on his desk. It had fascinated him simply because it had been taken from the family vault. He was still debating on whether to pick it up when he’d been caught. Instead of sending him away with a reprimand, he’d been seated in his father’s lap and handed the hourglass to examine more closely. It was made with a thick glass, housed in a sturdy wooden frame. On its flat top was the Triskelion burned into the wood. The sand inside of it was beta gold. When he’d tipped it over the sand hadn’t moved.  
  
That had confused him until his father told him it only worked at a certain time. He didn’t understand. Instead of explaining it further, he was sent to bed and told he’d find out when he was older. Unfortunately that time never came. It wasn’t long after that when he’d lost both of his parents in an accident. The mysterious hourglass didn’t come to mind again until he was more thoroughly cataloguing items in the vault. When he’d asked Talia about it, he’d gotten a very vague answer. This told him that his sister knew very little about it and was too focused on other things to really care. Once he realized that, he did what he always did, dug more into research. What he found had been fascinating.  
  
Apparently the hourglass had been fashioned by an ancient Druid sect. It only worked when a pack fell into Recovery. This happened when a pack wasn’t producing enough. There were several ways this could happen. The most common was a sudden severe loss of members. Another reason could be lack of new births or an overabundance of male pack members. If this went on long enough, the underlying magic present in all packs would kick in. Depending on the size of the pack, one or a few male pack members would develop the means to have children. As soon as their bodies adapted, they’d fall into a sort of heat. The males chosen were special in that they were essential to the pack’s health. Oftentimes they were the caregivers, looking out more closely for their pack mates. This made sense when examined closely.  
  
It would be far more dangerous for an enforcer to fall pregnant. That sort of thing did happen with female pack members but it was normally carefully planned. The last thing any pack wanted was a miscarriage. When the heat started any unmated male pack member, with the exception of relatives, would be affected. All of them would want to mate the chosen male. This is where the hourglass came into play. The time it took the sand to fall was how long they had to make a proper claim. In that time, if the dominant male hadn’t knotted and ensured a pregnancy then another would try. It wasn’t uncommon for the Alpha of the pack to go first.  
  
When that happened, there was also less chance of the pack member needing to take other members of the pack. They were normally knotted on the first try. Regardless, it was a communal activity. The potential need to take multiple males meant they needed to be close. It also wasn’t uncommon for female pack mates to be present. Although they couldn’t stop the heat, finding pleasure with the chosen male helped during lulls in claiming. When he’d realized that Stiles had been chosen, he’d felt great satisfaction in the thought of taking him as a mate. There was no doubt in his mind that he would too. In this case, the close relationship between Scott and Stiles was a distinct disadvantage. It hadn’t surprised him when Stiles’ new alluring smell had no effect on Scott.  
  
With the Alpha out of the running, his chances increased dramatically. He’d planned his chance to claim when he felt it would be the most effective. The initial claiming by Derek had been thorough. As careful as Derek was trying to be, it was obvious that the heat was affecting his actions. He’d left Stiles wrecked, his passage gaping open but with an empty womb. Next up had been Boyd. The way he’d taken Stiles had been more tentative. There was underlying lost quality to it as though Boyd wasn’t sure what he was doing. It wasn’t that he wasn’t sexually experienced. It was obvious that he was. It was more that Boyd wasn’t quite sure what all of this really entailed. He knew that he’d go after Boyd.  
  
After two orgasms, Stiles was loose limbed and relaxed to the point of being pliant. It was the perfect combination for him to lay a claim. There was a chance that Isaac could have ruined his plans. As soon as he’d seen the look on his face though any hopes of being circumvented had vanished. He’d get his way. There was a jealous part of him that would have liked to be first. It was small enough to ignore. He’d enjoyed the show and on occasion he liked sloppy seconds. Besides if all went well, this would be the last time that Stiles would take any cock except for his. The thought had him meeting the darkened whiskey gaze. At the connection, Stiles whimpered softly.  
  
His gaze fell to watch the way Stiles’ trembling fingers quickly stroked up his erection. It wouldn’t help. That didn’t mean Stiles could help the touch. All of it had him enthralled. In his desire to be bred Stiles was gorgeous. Leaning over the other man’s upper body, he tilted his head up with an inhale. The mingling scents that filled his lungs had his eyes flaring ice blue. He rumbled with pleasure when Stiles’ mouth came open with an aroused gasp at the sight. Slowly he climbed to his feet. As soon as he was standing, he started to methodically strip. The whole time he did, he kept his gaze glued to Stiles’ dark eyes. Even just sight alone had the young man’s trembling increasing. It pleased him immensely.  
  
When the last stitch of his clothing fell, he knelt again next to the nest. He leaned closer a second time, using his hands to brace over Stiles’ upper body. There was no chance that the other man would accidentally make contact. As much as Stiles might want the connection, his instincts would keep him still until after the first touch. He leaned even closer until only inches separated their faces. “Peter.” The warning note from Derek had him glancing up without moving his head. It was clear he was pushing it. He didn’t care. This was still well within the rules. With a fair amount of gravity to his words, he spoke in a voice gravely rough. “Don’t worry. I won’t take more time than I’m allowed. I won’t need it.” The last of it was fairly hissed out. Although it had Derek frowning, there was no further comment.  
  
With that, his slightly divided attention refocused entirely on his prize. “What do you say, darling? Are you ready for me?” The questions had Stiles squirming in place with a whimper. He chuckled softly. “I know, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’ll take care of you. What they’ve been trying to give you isn’t working. But don’t worry. I know exactly what you need.” In a quick movement, his lips slammed down on Stiles’ mouth. The action produced another whimper even as the soft lips fell open. He roughly pushed his tongue inside, laying claim to all he could find. As quickly as it started, it was over with a rough yank apart. They were on limited time. The chance to thoroughly enjoy kissing Stiles would have to come later. He didn’t need to look up to know that the hourglass was now counting down his time.  
  
With this in mind, he finished his earlier thought in a rough voice. “What you need is to be bred.” After quickly putting the necessary distance between them, his hands settled on Stiles’ hips only to flip him to his stomach. The touch had Scott jerking forward only to be stalled by Derek’s hand on his arm. He paid it enough attention to feel smugly satisfied. In a second he was going to debauch the young pup’s best friend and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. He quickly climbed onto the bedding, resting on his knees between Stiles’ slightly splayed legs. With purpose, he reached down to rearrange the other man to his liking. The narrow hips were lifted up while the shoulders were pressed down. This position had the elegant spine in a beautiful arch.  
  
He slid his hand down the strong back before reaching under luscious hips. When he found the engorged erection, his hand gave it a squeeze and one downward stroke just for the pleasure of it. The touch had the other man crying out only to moan wretchedly at his retreat. He resettled his hands on the firm backside, pulling Stiles open without preamble to expose his puffy vulnerable entrance. There was come soaking the muscle intermingled with slick. This copious combination oozed out even as he stared. He wanted to lean down and put his mouth there. He wanted to lick out the come from his pack mates. There was no time for so many things. What brought him comfort was the thought there would be time later.  
  
After he’d knotted Stiles, he’d indulge until they were both too exhausted to move. The first thing he’d do was put his mouth on Stiles and lick up his pack mates' failure while his blood thrummed with victory. It was this thought that had him moving into place. He touched his erection to the loose muscles briefly before plunging inside with one swift thrust. In reaction Stiles cried out loudly, his hands scrabbling uselessly on the bedding. The muscles gripping him were still tight but loose enough he didn’t feel the need to wait. Immediately he started up a hard fast rhythm. In the few seconds when all of his occurred, Scott jerked forward again as though to pull him off.  
  
Once again, a hand had been clamped down on his arm but unlike earlier Derek spoke as well. “It’s okay. He’s not hurting him. I can tell.” Looking in Scott’s direction lazily, he snarled slightly for good measure. A moment later, he tipped his head back as he moved steadily in the tight slick passage. It felt so good that despite the time limit, all he could do for long seconds was thrust forward languidly. The wet squelching sounds that filled his ears only made him harder. When he could feel Stiles pressing back, he leaned forward with a grunt to slam his hips forward. It had his new lover letting loose a wail that echoed off the walls. He stayed the course, aggressively thrusting inside while pressing in as deeply as possible.  
  
With a stuttered breath, he paused in his thrusting only to grind forward with a roll of his hips. The motion had Stiles shuddering all over, his wet open mouth letting loose a tormented groan. When the timing felt right, he resumed his thrusting. This was maintained as it suited his main purpose but was interspersed with deep grinding to keep things interesting. It wasn’t long before Stiles was sobbing into the top sheet. One of Stiles’ hands moved downward. He quickly grabbed it and slammed it into the bed. When he spoke it was in a rough growl. “No! That’s mine.” The words produced a shivering sob but Stiles’ hands clamped down on the sheet near his head.  
  
Although he really didn’t want to, his gaze went to the hourglass. They still had time. That didn’t mean that he wanted to have to use it. This was right. From their very first interaction, something about Stiles had always called to him. They were meant to end up here. It was meant to happen. He was always meant to be his. Now that it was finally happening he felt greedy. There was a part of him that wanted to come, that wanted to fill Stiles up to bursting. At the same time, there was an equally demanding part that wanted this to go on for hours. In the end, it was the hourglass in plain view that reminded him that now was the time for immediate action. No one should have this. No one except him.  
  
He slid the hand he had in-between Stiles’ shoulder blades upward. It settled at the base of his neck before he tightened the grip slightly. The new handhold pressed Stiles harder into the bed. At the same time, it also increased the arch to his bowed spine minutely. A low groan met his actions. It was followed up with a single word that sounded delirious. “Peter.” He grinned like a shark at the issuance of his name. Considering he’d popped his fangs awhile ago, he probably looked just as deadly. The speed of his hips increased. When the change had the passage around him fluttering, had a new gush of fluid wetting his cock, he groaned loudly as he reveled in the thought of what he was doing. His mind stayed fixed on that as he moved.  
  
The changes to Stiles’ body included a new passage that lined the walls of his entrance. It had come open, hardened enough to receive them in his arousal. He thought of how it had been untouched until a few hours ago. The thought of it swollen, slick with fluids and being forced open to receive him was almost too arousing. As he dripped inside steadily, he thought of his semen making a speedy path to Stiles’ new womb. He thought of it taking, of Stiles swollen with his baby. There was a tell tale pressure at the base of his erection. At the feeling, he gave a shout of triumph. Apparently Stiles could feel it too because the hips against his jerked backward eagerly. Not wanting to deny his mate anything, he thrust forward quickly and with enough force to have them rocking forward.  
  
As the seconds ticked past, the pressure at the base of his erection increased. It swelled outward, rounding out, catching on Stiles’ loose muscles. He fell forward over the other man’s back, barely allowing his hips to withdraw before slamming them forward. The continuous deep thrusting had Stiles squirming over the sheets uncontrollably. It didn’t matter. He knew the intention wasn’t to get away and with his restricting touch that wasn’t going to happen. As he moved his lips mouthed sloppily over Stiles’ neck. The movement was slightly frantic as the shape of his knot more fully formed. There was a cry from Stiles’ suddenly. He glanced up to see tears streaming down his face. It wasn’t from pain.  
  
All of his senses were currently tuned to Stiles’ reactions, so he’d know if it was anything bad. At each withdrawal of his knot, it pulled the taxed muscles open and each thrust inward forced them wide to accept the intrusion. The crying was accompanied by loud outward cries. They seemed to coincide with this retreat and invasion. He believed that Stiles was simply overwhelmed. That only made the pride in his chest swell. A loud startled cry and a full bodied shudder followed his yank out. His knot had truly been yanked out too. He’d grunted with the effort to withdrawal. When he went to push back in, he’d had to pause a moment to put more force behind the entry.  
  
The reluctant muscles flared wide open under the renewed pressure from his hips. As soon as he’d snuggly popped inside, his eyes flared in triumph and his jaws clamped down on Stiles’ neck. A scream of ecstasy slammed into his ears. The form under his went taunt momentarily before shuddering like a live wire. There was the distant sound of liquid hitting fabric. It was followed by the intoxicating smell of Stiles’ release. This had him biting down a little harder which only had Stiles’ hips flying backward. The passage around him fluttered uncontrollably, milking him hard in a demanding rhythm. It had him rocking forward. Although the urge to thrust was unbearable, all he could manage while trapped was a small steady deep press inward. The way Stiles’ passage was squeezing his knot supplied some comfort.  
  
There was a hand on his hip suddenly, tugging him closer in a hard handhold. That was enough. With one last brutal push inward, he stilled as his cock gave an eager twitch before releasing his climax in a hard gush. Even as his eyes rolled up in the back of his head, Stiles pressed back in a little thrust with an eager tiny whimper. Using the upmost care, his mouth unclamped only for him to lean back slightly. He tipped his head back to release a victorious howl. It reverberated in the room. There was no question it had traveled for miles. Now that he felt fully satisfied, he slumped back down over Stiles’ bowed back. His lips moved over sweaty skin as he randomly pressed his hips close.  
  
The severity of his release had lessened only slightly. It would continue to slowly pump his come into Stiles for some time. This wasn’t a common thing except when trying to actually breed. He was a little disappointed at the knowledge. The thought of filling his lover continuously like this when knotting was very appealing. When he moved his lips over the new mating mark, Stiles gave a small cry of pleasure. “We should leave.” The comment had his half-lidded gaze landing on the two wolves at their side. He’d actually forgotten about their audience. As much as he’d wanted to rub this in Scott’s face that surprised him slightly. In the end, he probably should have expected as much.  
  
It didn’t take a whole lot on a normal day for Stiles to have his full focus. Actually having him under him, making such delicious sounds and begging to be pupped was sure to get his undivided attention. There was a clear reluctance in Scott at the suggestion. When this became clear to Derek, he continued in a reassuring voice. “They’ve mated. He won’t hurt Stiles. It’s against our very nature.” The look Scott sent Derek was dubious. “He’s hurt other members of your family in the past.” Even in his hazy state, he was impressed with Scott’s tact. Despite the effort, there was a twinge of pain on Derek’s face at the reminder of his sister. There was a small part of him that still could feel guilt.  
  
It flared up every now and then when he thought of Laura. In his madness, that was the one thing he truly regretted. He could have found another way to become the Alpha. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would have. Although he’d never admit it, in his own small way he’d been trying to make it up to his remaining family ever sense. He didn’t put himself in harm’s way out of generosity. There _was_ always an agenda. It just wasn’t always steeped in evil. At the thought of his lost family, his body curled a little more tightly around Stiles’ shivering form. They were making a baby. In this very moment, they were expanding the pack. This time around he’d protect what was his. If he ever failed, he’d kill those responsible and then throw himself off the nearest cliff.  
  
The continuing conversation caught his attention. Although he kept his ears open, he didn’t move from his protective curl. “It’s different. A mating bond won’t allow either of them to hurt one another. There’s no chance of it physically and a very small chance of it emotionally. They’d both rather die. We need to give them some privacy. Now that the knotting has happened, Peter’s going to start feeling overly protective. They need to be alone and allowed to bond.” There was a slight shuffling noise, followed a moment later by a sigh. “Okay, fine. If you’re _sure_ that’s it’s safe.” The response that came was immediate. “I’m sure.” With that, there were some more subtle sounds all around the room.  
  
They were coordinating leaving. This was accompanied with soft discussion about what would happen next. From the distance of his voice, he could tell that Derek was already standing by the door. As the minutes passed, a new agitation in him steadily increased. He knew these were his pack mates. The co-mingled scent around him from their clothes was still soothing. Yet the longer they stayed in the room, the more he wanted to bare his fangs aggressively. When the door to the loft finally slid shut, he could feel all of the tension draining out his muscles. In a subtle shift, his knees tucked him more closely to Stiles’ hips. He gave a little push inward just because it felt good to move.  
  
The motion earned him a moan and a contraction against his knot. With an aroused puff of breath, he rocked forward a few more times while burying his face in the other man’s neck. Although it earned him some dazed moans, his mate stayed pliant under his touch. His hand settled over Stiles’ flat stomach lightly. The kisses he was peppering over the beautiful neck softened enough for him to speak breathily. “We’re going to make a beautiful baby, sweetheart.” At his declaration, Stiles moaned a little at the reminder of what they were doing. He leaned down enough to kiss over the sweaty shoulders. “I knew we would. You’re gorgeous. Even if I was the ugliest man alive, which let’s face it, you know I’m not, our baby would still be breathtaking.”  
  
Abandoning the pale lovely skin, he moved up enough to bury his nose in Stiles’ hair. He took in a few deep inhales. It wasn’t so much to scent him as it was to just enjoy his scent. When he spoke again, he stayed close, allowing his lips to brush through the sweat soaked hair. “I’m already looking forward to making more.” That got an immediate reaction. With a little aroused gasp, his mate pushed back against him bodily. He took in the way his lover’s only visible hand trembled against the sheet. In a desire to reward, his hips pressed forward with a little roll. It had Stiles clamping down hard enough to hurt. “Do you like the thought of that, darling? I do. I love the thought of giving that to you, of you giving us our own perfect little litter.”  
  
The hand he had on the flat stomach moved upward to heavily grope at his mate’s chest. “Does it make you happy to think of a little one hanging off of your teats?” His question didn’t get a verbal response but it didn’t need one. The aroused shudder that passed through Stiles’ body said enough. With a pleased hum, he leaned down to once again bury his face into the tempting neck. After giving the firm chest one more full handed grope, complete with a few teasing rubs to the peaked nipple he slid his hand downward to settle on Stiles’ stomach a second time. They fell into silence then as they both relaxed into the nest.  
  
The low hum of arousal never faded but he could tell his mate’s fatigue was increasing. This was confirmed a short time later, in a sleepy put upon mumble. “Peter, m’ tired.” At the slightly distressed words, he kissed under Stiles’ jaw in a soft nuzzle. “It’s okay, love. Go to sleep. It may still be awhile.” There was no question of that. The knot locking them together was just as hard as it had been when they first tied. It throbbed in time to his heartbeat. Whenever he thought about how hard he still was, it had his hips rocking forward instinctually. By this point, Stiles just laid under him docilely, just took it. With stimulation like that, it was no wonder he hadn’t even remotely softened.  
  
The brief conversation had Stiles relaxing but seemingly unable to fall asleep. In an effort to help, he started to place gentle kisses along his neck. This was accompanied by him running his free hand down Stiles’ side in soothing sweeps. The gentling touches did the trick, his lover drifting off to sleep within minutes. As his new mate slept, he gave him random soothing touches. On occasion, he’d shift his hips forward in a thrust. This always produced a little unaware moan. It had his blood racing and his cock throbbing. To know that Stiles was being pleasured, even in his sleep, was highly arousing. For the most part though, he simply laid still.  
  
He let himself get lost in the moment. Let his thoughts drift in contemplation of what this change would mean. Let the peaceful smile that wanted to emerge find its way onto his lips. He leaned back enough to place a kiss over the mating bite. It had Stiles humming contentedly in his sleep. What he’d been feeling earlier rang though him again. This was right. They were always meant to be here. He’d always known it. Now he’d have the rest of his life to make sure that Stiles knew that too.  
  
The End


End file.
